Muggle Studies 25
by justanon2
Summary: Two weeks into the summer directly after OOTP, Ginny gets a letter from her Muggle Studies teacher. It's a project, a project during which she will have to be holed up in a flat in Muggle London for one-and-a-half months, without magic. With a Muggle-born
1. The Project

Chapter One: The Project

She wasn't quite sure whether it was the tapping on her window or the sound of her mother calling her from downstairs that woke her. Whatever it was, she was awake, and she wasn't happy about it. Ginny Weasley was _not _a morning person.

The first thing she attended to was the tapping. "Probably just an owl from Hermione. I can't believe that she'd write me already though," Ginny thought as she made herself get out of bed and head for the window. Being careful not to break the shutters any more than they already were, she pulled them open and undid the window latch.

As soon as the window was open, a small brown ball whizzed into the room and landed on top of Ginny's head. "Hey, get off!" she shrieked, swatting at the small owl. It wasn't Pig, but it certainly was channeling him.

Finally the little monster flew off her head, and when he did he dropped an envelope into her open palm. Without so much as a quick rest, the owl was off. She could barely make out a lot more parchment trapped in its claws.

The seal of Hogwarts surprised her, but the signature on it surprised her even more. "Why would my Muggle Studies teacher be writing to me?" she wondered aloud as she broke the seal. She stuck her hand inside the envelope and pulled out one piece of paper. However, she could see that there were many more still to look at. Shaking her head, she began to read.

_Dear Muggle Studies Student,_

_If you do not recall, I did inform all of you that there would be a special project for you to do this summer. It is not completely academic, and I have a feeling that it will be fun for all of you._

_The gist of the project is this. For one and a half months, you will be required to live in a flat in Muggle London. There will be 25 tasks you will have to complete during the time that you will be there. All of the tasks will be accomplished _without _magic, something I'm sure you will all dislike. You will not be allowed to bring your wands. For the purpose of safety only, there will be magically altered floo powder for you to use to contact someone in the case of an emergency._

_The list of your tasks is included in the envelope which Harriet, my trust owl, gave to you. I apologize if he did anything rash, like nest in one of the Weasley children's (or Hermione's if she is with them) hair. He likes hair, especially red and/or bushy hair._

_Lets get back on track here. Some of the tasks will require more than a day of work, and all of the detailed information about the project is included in the envelope._

_I know, this is getting long, but I have one last thing to relay to you. If you are taking Muggle Studies and have come from a Wizarding family, it is required that you pick a Muggle-born partner to come along with you on the trip. Your partners do not have to be approved, except in special cases. Any Muggle-born who takes this class is not required to have a partner, but it will be much more fun to stay with someone, won't it?_

_If you have any questions, you know how to reach me._

_Cordially yours,_

_Arthur Dent_

_Professor of the Study of Muggles_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Ginny stared at the letter, he mouth wide open. "Ginger, close your mouth. You don't want something to fly in," Bill Weasley, her oldest brother, said from behind her. Ginny snapped her mouth shut and turned around.

"Bill!" she shrieked as she ran towards her often-absent brother. With a giant leap, she was in his arms. "When did you get back?" she asked, after their hug was finally finished.

"Just this morning, which you would have known if you had actually come down for breakfast. If you don't hurry, there might not be any more left." Ginny raised an eyebrow at her brother, and he sent her a genuine smile in return. "You know Ron, Ginger. He'd eat everything in the house if he could fit it through his mouth fast enough." Ginny smiled, laughed a bit, and certainly agreed.

"Sorry, I just got an owl," Ginny told him as they exited her room and made their way down the stairs.

"Oh really? Who from?" Bill asked, sounding interested.

"Oh, Professor Dent, the Muggle Studies teacher. We have some strange summer project coming up. I'm going to be staying in a flat in Muggle London for a month-and-a-half, running around doing errands and things," Ginny told him, tightening her grip on the letter in her hand. She wasn't quite sure how her parents, or her brothers, were going to react to this.

"You know that Mum probably won't let you go," Bill informed her, his voice not letting on at all what he was thinking. Ginny nodded and shrugged.

"I won't be alone, I get to have a Muggle-born partner. Plus, they're giving us floo powder that we can use to contact someone if we need help. I think I'll be fine," Ginny assured him. She just hoped that her mother would also allow herself to be assured.

"Morning Gin," Ron said, through a mouthful of food. Ginny had always wondered how Ron could make himself be fully understood when his mouth was completely stuffed.

"Morning Ron," Ginny replied politely, pulling up an old wooden chair and sitting at the table. Almost immediately, Molly Weasley entered the room with a plate piled high with pancakes. She placed it in front of Ginny, sent Ron a disapproving look for his horrendous table manners (one he didn't even see), and fluttered off into the kitchen without so much as a hello.

Ginny was used to the hustle and bustle of the Weasley household, but anyone coming in for the first time would shocked at the small amount of actual communication that the Weasley family needed to get their points across. As soon as a child sat down, there was food in front of them. As soon as they were finished, the plate was whisked away. When they wanted more, the plate was suddenly full again.

Sometimes, magic came in the simplest of packages.

"So, what took you so long, Gin? Get a letter from your _boyfriend_?" George asked from across the table. Ginny scowled at him and shook her head.

"Actually, I got a letter from Professor Dent," Ginny informed him coldly as she began on her stack of pancakes.

"He's your boyfriend, Gin? I thought that Dean had caught your fancy," Fred asked from the spot next to George. The scowl left Ginny's face, and she shook her head once again.

"There's a Muggle Studies project for over the summer. I'll get to live in a flat in Muggle London for 1½ months and do various Muggle tasks without any magic. And no, I won't be alone, I'll take a partner."

"Me?" Ron asked politely, his mouth finally clear of food. Ginny smiled at his kindness, but was also slightly perturbed by his overprotective behavior.

"Sorry Ron, but it's got to be a Muggle born. Once I get Mum's permission, I'm going to owl Hermione to see if she can come." A scowl came over Ron's face, but it quickly changed to a blush when he saw the twins' smirks.

"She'll probably say no, Gin. She's supposed to be going to Bulgaria for most of the summer," Ron informed her, irritation evident in his voice. Ginny rolled her eyes and let out a grand sigh. Both Hermione and Ron were pretty thick sometimes, in her opinion.

"To visit Krum you mean?" George asked, goading Ron. Ginny knew that trouble was brewing, so she finished her pancakes as quickly as possible and brought her plate into the kitchen, so she could talk to her mother.

Molly Weasley was a fascinating woman, although you wouldn't think it to look at her. She was altogether plain, although nowhere near ugly. Her curly red hair, with it cursory gray streak, framed her face in quite a lovely way, and she looked a lot more like Ginny than either was willing to admit.

"So Mum, I got an owl this morning," Ginny began, setting her plate down next to the sink, which was currently occupying most of her mother's arms.

"Oh, that's nice dear. Was it from that Dean boy?" Ginny felt like pulling out her hair at that. Everyone in her family was either protective or teasing about any relationship she had.

"I wonder what she'd say if I started it up with Harry," Ginny wondered, but immediately put a stop to that line of thinking. A blush crept to her cheeks, and she kept thinking, "I gave up on him, I gave up on him." It would do her no good, however. She knew she was lying to herself.

"No, it was from my Muggle Studies teacher," Ginny began, and for the next few minutes she outlined the particulars of the project with her mother. When she was finished, she had a feeling that there would be a great battle of the Weasley female stubbornness, but instead, her mother agreed wholeheartedly with the project.

"I think it would be quite wonderful for you to get out of the house for a while, and it sounds perfectly safe to me. Why don't you go owl Hermione and ask her, hm? I'm sure she's going to get _lots _of requests, being so intelligent and all," was what her mother had said. Ginny was so stunned that it took her a full minute before she thawed enough to actually begin to walk upstairs.

After a quick and mostly hot shower, Ginny entered her room, sat down on her bed, and pulled a piece of parchment and quill from the drawer of her nightstand. Settling into a comfortable position, she began writing.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I hope your summer has been good so far; mine has. I've heard from Ron that you're going to Bulgaria, but I can only hope that jealousy is thickening his brain. You're both so thick, you know that right?_

_Sorry, that's not what I'm writing to you about. Actually, it's about this Muggle Studies project we're doing. For one-and-a-half months, I'll be staying in a Muggle London flat and completing a bunch of normal Muggle tasks without magic._

_I know that this sounds altogether unremarkable, but there's more. I have to choose a Muggle-born partner to stay with me for the month. It starts in about a week, so it would be nice if you could respond to this owl soon._

_All my love,_

_Ginny Weasley_

_PS: I know he's a prat, but he really does care!_

Satisfied that Hermione would understand the letter, Ginny rolled it up and called for Pig. In an instant, the little owl was at her side, ready to take the letter. She stroked him for a moment, then secured the parchment to his claws. "Hurry up please, okay Pig?" she asked as she sent him off. As soon as he was out of the window, she flopped back on her bed and fell asleep once again.

* * *

The afternoon sun was low in the sky when Ginny woke up. Once again, she was awakened by either a tapping at her window or the sound of her mother calling her down to eat. Ginny didn't know the time, so she wasn't quite sure what meal it was. Getting up swiftly, Ginny once again opened the window and Pig came flying back in. Ginny pulled the piece of parchment off of his leg and began reading.

_Dear Ginny,_

_It's very nice to hear from you, and I as well have been having a nice summer. I'm quite worried about Harry, but other than that things are quite smashing here._

_I am sorry to inform you that Ron was right; I'm going to Bulgaria this summer. Do please remind him that my parents are escorting me, and that Viktor and I are only friends._

_Because of my vacation, I will not be able to go with you to Muggle London. I truly would love to (I'm sure your lack of knowledge will be quite amusing), but I promised Viktor months ago that I would visit him. _

_All I can do is suggest a few likely candidates for you to ask instead. The only Muggle-born I can think of who you are friends with is Dean Thomas, but, from what you said on the train, I doubt that your brothers (or parents) would be too keen on that._

"She knows us so well," Ginny thought with a smile, and then continued.

_So, I propose that you ask Harry. Ask Dumbledore first of course, since Harry might not be allowed to go; security and all of that. But, if Dumbledore says yes, I really think that you should ask Harry. I'm sure he would love it, as would you._

_Do take my advice Ginny. I think you will get much more than just a good grade if you take Harry with you (wink wink)._

_All the best,_

_Hermione_

Ginny was completely stunned. Had Hermione just told her that she should stay with Harry Potter, the boy she had been in love with since 1st year, for an entire month-and-a-half? And why in the world would Harry even want to go in the first place?

"To get away from the memories," came, unbidden, into her mind. The moment it did, Ginny knew that it was true. "Well," she asked herself, "what do I have to lose?"

And with that, she sat began writing a letter to Dumbledore.


	2. The Unexpected Owl

Chapter Two: The Unexpected Owl

Summer at Privet Drive had never been something that Harry enjoyed. So, it was no surprise that he had spent most of the first two weeks of it sulking in his room.

Not that he didn't want to sulk, because he did. He didn't want friendship, he didn't want love, he didn't even want acknowledgement. He just wanted to be left alone, left alone to mourn.

Sirius had had such a hard life, and Harry was coming to realize that it really was his fault. Sirius would have never been in Azkaban if he hadn't been born and his parents hadn't been killed. Sirius never would have gotten killed if Harry hadn't been stupid and acted too quickly.

_Sirius wouldn't have been out of Azkaban if not for you, _the voice in his head tried to get in. Harry simply shut it out. He didn't want to think about the good times, the good things that happened, the parts of Sirius's life that were filled with joy.

All he wanted to do was cry.

He never did cry of course; boys don't cry, and he made a habit of keeping to that unwritten rule. He did, however, come quite close on numerous occasions during the last weeks. It wasn't enough though. He didn't miss Sirius enough; no one could. The man deserved so much more than he had ever gotten, and now, once he was gone, things in his direction were still sorely lacking.

It was during this session of grief-wallowing that the owl came. Harry sighed and got up, assuming that it was Hedwig, back from her trip to Hermione's. Harry had not wanted to write to her, of course, but he had felt the need to answer Hermione's letter of two days ago with a polite reply.

However, the owl that he found at his window was not Hedwig, but Pigwidgeon, the Weasley family owl. "Oh great, Ron's written to me. Why do I have to have _two _best friends?" Harry pondered as Pig flew in the window. Harry quickly grabbed the piece of parchment from Pig's claws and sent him back out the window from which he came.

Settling himself on his bed, Harry unrolled the parchment and sat there, staring at the parchment for a few moments. What he saw surprised him a great deal. The handwriting was definitely not Ron's, definitely not the twins', definitely not Arthur or Molly's, so it had to belong to Ginny. With that tidbit of information in mind, Harry began to read.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you are doing well and have had a nice summer. I doubt it though; your relatives sound simply horrid. However, I didn't write to you about your relatives, but about something entirely different._

_A few days ago, I received a letter from Professor Dent (you know, the Muggle Studies professor). Over the summer, I have a Muggle Studies project that I'll be doing. I get to live in Muggle London for a month-and-a-half, doing 25 tasks that Professor Dent has assigned us._

_The catch? There's no magic allowed._

_Anyway, since I am not a Muggle-born, it is required that I chose a Muggle-born partner to stay with me. I owled Hermione, but she's going to Bulgaria for a visit. Ron absolutely blew his stack when I told him; you should have seen his face!_

_Since Hermione can't go, and my brothers would adamantly refuse to allow me to go with Dean, Hermione suggested that I ask you. I know that you probably want to sit around and sulk (oh wow, that sounded really mean!), but I owled Dumbledore to ask him anyway._

_Surprisingly, he said that it would be perfectly all right for you to be my partner. I have a feeling that there're going to be Aurors in the area anyway, so he thinks that you'll be safe._

_So, would you like to come with me? Please owl me soon, since the project starts on July 4th. It'll be over 1-and-a-half months later, which is on August 15th. Anyway, just owl me and say if you'll come or not. If you can, then Ron and I'll pick you up at the Dursleys' on the 2nd, which is next Friday._

_It's Wednesday the 28th, is case you've been too busy wallowing in self-pity to notice (sorry, it slipped out again)._

_Hope to hear from you soon,_

_Ginny_

Harry's immediate response was "Yes, yes yes! I get to spend an entire month-and-a-half with someone other than myself and the Dursleys!" Then, he remembered that he didn't _want _to spend time with anyone; he wanted to be alone and to grieve.

He was torn. He wanted to mourn, but he wanted to get away from the Durselys. He wanted to be alone, but he also wanted to be with a friend. Ginny Weasley wasn't exactly his friend, but now that she had gotten over her crush on him, he felt it safe to pursue a friendship.

Something about that seemed so wrong to Harry, but he couldn't place exactly what it was.

"I'm going to say no," he told himself, determined to stick to his eat-sleep-and-mourn schedule. He was about to write back when he heard an insistent rapping on his door. He stuffed Ginny's letter under the bed, walked over, and carefully opened the door.

"It's time for breakfast," Dudley informed him coldly, and then turned on his heel and ran down the stairs. Harry found it almost funny how, just last summer, Dudley had bullied him constantly. Now, Dudley was so afraid of him that just speaking to him gave the boy nightmares.

Harry felt quite pleased that he could do that to someone he had always hated. He liked the feeling of power that came with knowing someone was frightened of him.

It wasn't just Dudley though, it was the whole Dursley family. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been simply numb with shock on the ride from Platform 9¾. They had barely spoken a word to him since then, except a few of the normal orders. This summer, instead of having 100 chores to do, Harry was completely and totally ignored.

That gave him more time to mourn, and he was grateful.

So, off he trudged, down the stairs and into Number 4 Privet Drive's kitchen. Once he got there, he saw that breakfast had already been made. He had yet to get used to not making breakfast for the whole family, so he still started a little when he saw food on the table.

Of course, he didn't get much food, and he never ate more than a bite or two, so it didn't really matter. Harry knew that he was getting thinner, painfully so since he had grown another inch over the summer, and he didn't want to even imagine what Molly Weasley would say when she saw him.

"She'll probably faint dead away," he thought as he slid into his chair. Silently, he stuck his fork into the half omelet that sat before him and lifted it up and into his mouth. He didn't really care what Molly thought or did, however. He didn't want to eat, he didn't want to enjoy himself, and he certainly didn't want to be genuinely happy.

And yet, there was that nagging sensation in the back of his mind that told him he would be missing out on a great deal if he didn't go with Ginny. Somehow, Harry knew that the voice was right, but he didn't want to listen to it. He had made a habit of not listening to any of his voices; they never, _ever _told him what he wanted to hear.

The problem? He didn't know what he wanted to hear.

"Boy, we have some chores for you to do today," Petunia informed him sourly. Harry looked up from his omelet to stare at the woman. Chores? Why would they start giving him chores now?

"Well, there's no reason to complain. It'll give me extra time to wallow in my thoughts," Harry thought, nodding slightly at his aunt. Petunia looked smug, and Harry had a feeling that he would not like these chores very much.

"So, you're finally ready to be put in your place," Vernon commented, and something inside Harry snapped.

"And what place would that be?" Harry asked, wondering, through his anger, how far Uncle Vernon was willing to take this. Harry was willing to go as far as he could without completely killing the man, but Harry had always been more courageous than his uncle.

"You're queer Harry, and everyone knows it. Just because you've found "acceptance" in your little world doesn't make you anything more than you once were. From now until the end of time, you're going to be worthless Harry. The only thing you could possibly do is try not to muck up everything in sight," Uncle Vernon shot back.

Harry was appalled, angry, surprised, and sad, all at the same time. He was appalled that his uncle would say something like that to him, and he was angry for much the same reason. He was surprised that Uncle Vernon had found the courage to still speak to him that way, but most of all he was sad. He was sad because he knew, deep down, that his uncle was right.

But why not get away from it all, at least for a little while? Why not bask in the light of the fact that he might have friends, while they were still in the dark as to how worthless he was?

So, he had decided. He was going to work with Ginny on her Muggle Studies project. He would try to grasp what little bit of comfort he could find.

"Thank you Uncle Vernon. You have truly put me in my place. I will be leaving on July 2nd, the Weasleys are picking me up," Harry said, his voice laced with ice. Before his uncle could get out a word of protest, Harry was gone, up to his room to write back to Ginny.

* * *

_Dear Ginny,_

_You're right, my summer hasn't been so great, but it just got better. Thanks for inviting me on this Muggle Studies trip of yours; I think we're going to have lots of fun. Feel free to pick me up next Friday, but don't floo in. I think my aunt and uncle would have simultaneous strokes if you did._

_See you on Friday. I can't wait. _

_All the best,_

_Harry_

Harry smiled as he re-read the parchment for the fifth time, making sure all he had wanted to say was there. As soon as the smile reached his lips, he immediately turned the corners down. He hadn't smiled since the beginning of the summer, and it was a shock to him that something so simple would bring one on.

With a quick shake of his head, he looked around the room, and realized that he had no way to get the letter to Ginny. "I hope Hedwig will be back soon," Harry mused, laying down on his bed and closing his eyes.

It was about five minutes before his owl appeared, swooping in through the open window. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice her until she was on top of his head and picking at his hair.

Being careful not to startle her, Harry slowly sat up and grabbed the sides of Hedwig's body. He could let her rest on his arm; her talons would have ripped it to shreds. Holding her out in front of him, her feathers feeling almost too soft in his hands, he shoved the parchment into her flexing claws. "Now take this to the Burrow, okay? It's for Ginny."

As Hedwig took off, Harry could have sworn that he saw a glint in the owl's eye. "Stop imagining things Harry," he told himself sternly, lying once again on his bed. A yelling voice from downstairs broke into his reverie only moments later. "Oh yeah, chores," Harry grumbled, sitting up and making his way down the stairs.

"Soon," he thought, "Soon I'll be with my friends. The only place where I've ever nearly belonged."


	3. The Reunion

Chapter 3: The Reunion 

The day of Harry' retrieval came almost too soon. Ginny dreaded it with every fiber of her being, hoping and praying that she wouldn't make a complete and total fool out of herself in front of the boy. She knew that she would, however, so there was no point in even hoping. She was a failure at dealing with people who she l... "Shut up!" Ginny screamed in her mind, before the L-word emerged.

"Honestly, I'm going out with Dean now. There's no time for me to moon over Harry Potter," Ginny told herself sternly, trying to push all thoughts of Harry out of her mind. It didn't work; he was, and always would be, there.

Finally, she gave up with a sigh and began getting ready for the day ahead. She was sure that it would be simply dreadful, but, as she had come to learn, life was not always so grand.

After a quick shower and breakfast, Ginny and Ron were off to Privet Drive. They had decided to floo in despite Harry's warning, since they really didn't know what this "stroke" thing was. "Number Four Privet Drive," Ginny said firmly, throwing a bit of floo powder into the Burrow's fireplace. The flames immediately turned green and, without a bit of hesitation, Ginny stepped into them.

She was only in Number Four for a few minutes before Vernon Dursley was upon her like a vulture. "How dare you!" he shrieked in indignation, his face merely inches from her own. Ginny pulled back in disgust; she didn't want him to spit on her, as that's what it seemed like he would do.

"Hey Harry, we're here!" Ron called from behind her. Ginny backed up a little and grabbed onto her brother's hand. She wasn't afraid of the large man, but she had a feeling that he would be able to snap her like a twig. She shoved a hand in her pocket and grabbed onto the comforting presence that was her wand, knowing that it would keep her safe.

"Coming Ron!" a voice shouted. Ginny looked up to see Harry standing at the top of the stairs. She gasped and covered her eyes as they brimmed with tears. She would not cry in front of him, that she had promised herself, but to do that would mean leaving right then.

He looked so awful. She could see the bones jutting out of his neck, his back, his hips, and his cheeks. There were dark circles under his once-gorgeous green eyes. All of the happiness and, well, _life _that they had once held was gone. He looked as though he hadn't eaten, slept, talked, cried, smiled, or felt happy at all since he left Hogwarts.

"Ron," she hissed, "I'm going home." And with that, she turned on her heel, threw floo powder into the fire, said "The Burrow," and jumped in.

The moment she reached the safety of the Burrow fireplace, Ginny scrambled to her feet and ran upstairs, oblivious to the look of horror plastered on each and every one of the other Weasleys' faces.

She reached her room as quickly as possible, and the minute the door was closed and she had her head in her fluffy pillow, she dissolved into tears.

* * *

Harry was stunned. Ginny Weasley was the very same Ginny she had been on that day at Platform 9¾, but there was something different about her. She wasn't any prettier; she had always been fairly attractive. She wasn't any taller; she was done growing at 5'6 or so. She just radiated something, some kind of special energy that drew him towards her.

"Coming Ron!" he shouted over the noise of Uncle Vernon screaming at the two Weasleys. Three pairs of eyes turned to him in that instant.

The look of horror on her face was not missed. He didn't get a chance to catch Ginny's eye, for she had already threw her hands up over her eyes. "Am I really that hideous?" Harry asked himself, any good spirits that he had been in gone.

His mood was made even worse when Ginny, still not looking at him, turned around, whispered something in Ron's ear, and flooed out of there as quickly as possible.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry said, loudly and authoritatively, once he had regained his composure. "Please stop yelling at Ron. He's taking me to the Burrow now, so you needn't continue." Harry flashed Ron a pleasant (and quite fake) smile as he descended the rest of the steps two at a time.

When he reached Ron's side, he gave the boy a brotherly hug and then held out his hand for some floo powder. "Haven't missed me then, have you?" Ron asked, trying to make a joke. Harry laughed lightly, but this too was manufactured. He could tell that the joking tone in Ron's voice had been fake as well; he could hear an underlying tone of worry and surprise over Ginny's actions. Harry felt the same way.

"I have actually. I just want to get out of this house as fast as I can," Harry replied as Ron reached into a leather bag at his waist and grabbed out some floo powder. Harry tightened his grip on his suitcase as he took the offered floo powder and made a quick escape into the world of the Burrow.

He could see in their eyes that Ginny had come through here. Molly, Arthur, Bill, George, and Fred; all of them were looking fairly stunned and horrified. "Harry?" Molly asked, her voice cracking near the end of his name. A tear snuck out of the corner of his eye as he dropped his trunk, walked over and gave Mrs. Weasley a light squeeze.

"It's good to see you Mrs. Weasley," Harry whispered in her ear as he moved on to the next person in the family. Arthur Weasley clapped Harry on the back and said something about how nice it was to see him again. Bill Weasley, obviously more shaken than the others by what Ginny had just done, simply shook Harry's hand and said nothing. Fred and George both flashed Harry one of their signature mischievous grins, but Harry knew that this whole thing was manufactured to make him feel better.

With a sigh and a final hello, Harry grabbed his trunk and made his way upstairs to the room he would be sharing with Ron.

* * *

Ginny cried for a long, long time. She wasn't sure quite how long; she lost track of time within 10 or 15 minutes of her arrival. She had tried to stop many times, but Harry's figure kept appearing in front of her eyes.

There he was, tall and thin and without a sliver of hope or happiness. She couldn't get the picture out of her head, and every time it came up she burst into a fresh round of tears.

She had no idea how much pain Harry must have been in. She had no idea how awful his brief stay with the Dursleys had been. All she knew was that he was desperately sad, alone, and altogether afraid. She wanted to comfort him, to hold him in her arms and stroke his hair. "It'll be okay," she longed to whisper into his hair, inhaling the smell of him.

But she knew that she would never be able to. Just to look at him brought on a fit of crying. How could she hold him or be near him? If she hugged him, she knew that she would feel the bones in his back and shoulders grating painfully against her skin. And, she knew that she wouldn't be able to stand it. She would break down, and Harry had no need of that.

The worst of her crying was over before anyone came in to check on her. It was, of course, Bill who came in first. He was the closest to her out of all of her siblings, except for Ron. However, he was much less thick and much more tactful than all of her siblings combined.

"Ginger," he whispered softly into her hair as he held her. Just sitting there with his arms around her brought on another fit of tears, but finally it was over, and she pulled away from Bill's comforting arms.

"Did you see him Bill?" Ginny asked softly, choking on her words. Bill nodded and began rubbing Ginny's back in slow circles. "Oh god Bill, how am I going to stand it? He looks so...so alone, so unhappy. Did you see the bones, Bill? I could very well have stood there, tracing them from halfway across the room. Did you see them, did you?" she asked. She knew she was rambling on, but she couldn't help it.

"Yeah, I know Ginny. I saw it too. I understand." That was all he needed to say, and he held out his arms for her. She took a shaky breath and shook her head.

"No Bill, that's enough comforting me for now. I need to figure out a way to deal with this. I may just have to find someone else to partner with."

Bill gave her a disapproving look and shook his head. "You can't do that to him, Gin. He wanted to come, you know? It'd break his heart into even more pieces than it already is." Bill paused there, took a breath just as shaky as the one she just had, and continued. "But I believe in you Ginger. You've overcome more than this before; you can do it again."

The next one to come in was her mother. Something much the same happened with Molly Weasley, and something similar to that happened with Arthur Weasley. The twins had tried to cheer her up; they had even extracted a worn smile from her.

It was Ron's visit, however, that really did her in.

He stormed into the room, looking as though he had just come from an encounter with Draco Malfoy. "HOW DARE YOU!" he yelled, his words reverberating off the walls of her room. She was sure that everyone from here to Australia had heard him shouting.

"How dare you do that to him?" Ron said again, his voice now just above a whisper. "He was so worried, so unhappy, so hateful. He thought you were repulsed by him, Gin. He didn't take kindly to that little scene you made. Can't you ever act with maturity, just once?"

The twig snapped. Ginny was mad, and a Weasley in a full-blown rage was not something most people experience often.

"Ronald Billius Weasley," Ginny began, her voice dripping with venom. "I would advise you not to reprimand me for something that was not wrong. Did you perchance notice, Ron, that your best friend looks like walking death?"

"Do you were repulsed then?" Ron asked.

"HOW DARE YOU EVEN SUGGEST SUCH A THING, YOU BLOODY GIT!" Ginny screamed, jumping off the bed and tackling Ron to the ground. "I was horrified Ron. I had promised not to cry in front of him and make his load heavier, but I couldn't help it, okay? What do you think I've been doing here in my room for hours, writing a Potions essay?"

When Ron didn't answer, she did not continue. She waited for it to dawn on him. Once she saw the recognition in his eyes, she began again.

"Did you see it Ron? His bones are jutting out so far that I could stand on them! The circles under his eyes are black as night. And did you see the bruise on his arm, partially hiding underneath the edge of his shirt? Did you? His uncle did not do that to him."

She waited, and Ron's eyes softened. He was going to cry too, and she would start up again with him.

"And his eyes, oh god Ron, his eyes! He looked as though all hope, all life was gone. He looked like a zombie, a living dead, someone with no soul left in their bodies! He looked like a dementor had come to his house and performed the Kiss on him during the night! How could I do anything but run home and cry?"

"Oh Ginny," Ron whispered, his heart stuck in his throat. And then, he cried. They wrapped their arms around each other, reveling in the comforting embrace that they shared. Ron's head was on Ginny's shoulder, and her head was on his. They were crying, both of them, and Ginny didn't know whether she would be able to stop.

"Dinner!" Mrs. Weasley called from downstairs. Ron and Ginny immediately split apart and stood at arms-length, staring at each other.

"Are you...?" Ron didn't finish, but she knew what he was going to ask, and shook her head.

"I...I can't Ron, you know? Maybe you could, um, bring me some food?" Ron nodded and smiled a little, trying to make her feel better. And now, finally, she really did. Just sitting there in Ron's arms, both of them crying, had made her feel much better. However, the tears were still lurking behind her eyes, and she knew they would escape the moment Harry came into her field of view.

* * *

They all told him not to go, but he didn't listen. "She needs her rest," Arthur had said.

"She's just not feeling good; I think she wants to be left alone," George and Fred said. Ron and Bill echoed that statement, as did Molly and the aforementioned Mr. Weasley. But Harry would not be swayed. He, somehow, had caused her anguish, and he needed to know why.

"Take her this then," Ron said, shoving a full plate of food into Harry's hands. He nodded in agreement and slowly scaled the steps.

He reached Ginny's room and rapped lightly on the door. When there was no answer, he tried the doorknob. He found, none too surprisingly, that the door was unlocked. He opened it and walked inside, already beginning to talk. "Here Ginny," he said, "I brought you some dinner."

Ginny obviously thought he was Ron, because she responded as though she did. "Oh, thanks Ron. I'm sorry that I couldn't come down to dinner, but you know..." She had turned around during this statement, and had finally caught sight of who was _actually _standing on her doorstep.

With a cry, she turned back around and flopped down on the bed. Harry was mortified to realize that she was crying. He gently set the plate of food down on her nightstand and sat himself down on the bed. He began stroking her back, trying to calm her erratic sobs.

For some reason, however, that only made it worse.

Harry was struck dumb when Ginny began crying even harder. Last time he had checked, rubbing a girl's back usually made them feel better. "Ginny?" he asked, leaning towards her and whispering in her ear. It took her a few minutes to acknowledge him, but finally the sobbing did stop.

Without turning her face from the pillow, Ginny began to talk. "Yes Harry?" she asked, obviously waiting for him to ask her the question she knew that he wanted to ask.

"Ginny, what did I do?" His voice was low, and sounded a lot sadder than it usually did. He wasn't quite sure why though.

"You didn't eat all summer, Harry." He didn't understand. How did she know that he hadn't eaten? And he had eaten, although not nearly enough. Why did it make any difference to her whether he ate or not? They were friends, yeah, but did it really warrant such a response.

"And you've been hurting yourself Harry." She let silence hang in the air for a moment, broken only by Harry's gasp of surprise, and then continued. "I saw the bruise Harry, and I know that your uncle didn't do that to you."

Suddenly, Ginny was up, her face turned towards him once again, fire burning in her eyes. "Honestly Harry, how could you? You're skin and bones!" She stuck out a hand and jabbed his ribcage. He yelped; it hurt when she touched it.

She withdrew her hand instantly, and for a moment there was a look of remorse on her face. Then, the fire was back, and she was railing on him again. This time, however, she took to jabbing him in a place with some more skin, like his stomach.

"You know what you did Harry? For one thing, you obviously ate nearly nothing at the Dursleys' house, and I think you did it on purpose. Second, you've been hitting yourself; I can tell. Third, have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror Harry?" When he nodded, she shook her head.

"No Harry, I mean really looked into your own _eyes _in the mirror. There used to be life in those eyes, Harry. You used to be a strong, brave, and wonderful person who rose above all the bad happenings in your life and still managed to have fun. I admired you for it, Harry. You have no idea how hard the summer after the chamber was for me. And yet, I survived it, because you had done it, and so could I."

She took a breath there, letting what she had said sink in. He felt a surge of pride for having been the thing that helped Ginny get over her encounter with Tom Riddle. However, he had a feeling that the rest of this conversation would not be so complimentary.

"But now, now Harry? You're gone. You're not dead, but you might as well be. There's no life in your eyes. There's no happiness, no sadness, no laughter, no emotion whatsoever. All that's there is a lack of emotion, which really isn't anything at all. You look... you look like you've just received the Dementor's Kiss, Harry."

Harry was struck dumb. Dementor's Kiss...Sirius... he didn't want to think about it. He closed his eyes tightly shut, hoping that he could tune out her words by doing so.

Everything she said had been true. He hadn't been eating, purposefully, he hadn't any emotion, and he had most definitely been hurting himself.

It all started the day he came back from Platform 9¾. Something had happened, and he had gotten angry with himself. Then, Sirius had come to his mind, and he had gotten angry with that as well. Suddenly, he was so angry that he simply had to hit something. Not wanting to make a commotion and bring the Dursleys screaming up the stairs, he had hit himself.

It did much for him, this hitting. He could let out his anger, at Sirius, at himself, at Bellatrix Lestrange, at Voldemort, at his parents, at the Dursleys, everybody. It was almost soothing. The pain helped him deal with the loss. He knew that it wasn't really something he should be doing, but it helped, and that was all that mattered to him.

"You're not that wonderful boy anymore Harry. He's locked inside of you, waiting to come out, but you're not letting him. You're beating him into submission Harry, and I just couldn't handle it. You know, I had promised myself that I wouldn't cry in front of you. 'He doesn't need any more burdens, Ginny.'

But Harry, when I saw you there, looking like death itself, I couldn't help it. Where had that sweet, wonderful, courageous boy gone? I simply couldn't handle it. I'm surprised that I can even talk to you now; I've been crying all day." Now, she was truly finished.

Harry didn't know what to say. So he just sat there, waiting for something to happen. Thoughts swirled around and around in his head, and he kept getting angrier and angrier. Not at Ginny, but at himself. He, Harry Potter, was causing everyone else so much pain.

He wanted to kill himself. He wanted to beat himself to death, to die. That way, no one else would have his or her lives destroyed because of him.

So he raised his fist and began to hit his wrist. He started out hitting it lightly, which he knew was why Ginny hadn't made him stop. But, after a few minutes of that, the bruise could be seen, so he began hitting himself harder. The pain jabbed him like a knife each time his fist connected with the jutting bone of his wrist, but he kept at it.

Moments before the final blow, the one he knew would break the skin, Ginny grabbed his arm. He pushed against her fairly feeble grip, but her grasp was firm. Finally he looked up into her eyes, and the tears that lay pooled in the corners were his undoing.

They were coming, the tears, and she could see it. Ginny let go of his wrist and smoothly transitioned into holding him. She sat next to him on her bed, wrapped her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his neck. He let his arms fall into disuse around her waist, and buried his face in her hair.

And then he cried.


	4. A Shopping Trip and an Angry Ginny

Chapter 4: A Shopping Trip and an Angry Ginny

She was in bed, and that was all she knew. She wasn't sure whose bed, where that bed might be, or how she had gotten there. Eventually she mustered up enough tired strength to open her eyes. "I'm in my room," she said aloud, looking around as if she had never seen it before.

"And where else would you be?" Harry asked. Ginny nearly jumped straight out of her bed. Turning her head a little, Harry came into view. He was sitting on the small, comfy chair in the corner of her room, splayed across it as though he had just recently slept on it.

"Harry, what're you doing here?" Ginny vaguely remembered she and Harry crying together, but her memories ended there. Harry sent her a roguish grin and chuckled. Ginny nearly jumped out of her bed again. Harry was laughing, and she had been the cause? Unbelievable.

"You fell asleep last night Gin, so I put you in your bed. And then I just, well, I just couldn't leave," Harry told her, his cheeks taking on a reddish tint. Ginny gaped at him in horror and shook her head.

"God dammit Harry, you're sleeping in my brother's room you ruddy git! He knew you came up here, and he'll know that you didn't go back to the room! Bloody hell Harry!" Ginny shrieked at him, not caring if the whole house heard.

At those words, Harry leapt from the corner and onto her bed, landing on top of her and jamming his palm over her mouth. "Shush up Ginny. It's only 5:00 in the morning; I was just waiting for you to wake up before I went back to Ron's room. I'll just tell him that it took you a long time to go to sleep and I didn't want to leave you."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. "Well it's true," he muttered, and suddenly realized what kind of position they were in. His cheeks turned even redder, and he quickly removed himself from the bed. "Bye Gin," he whispered softly. He began slowly moving closer to her, and after a second of indecision, he kissed her. On the head.

And then he walked out the door.

It took Ginny a long while to fall back asleep, but she did eventually.

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Her slumber was not long, however. Only an hour later she was awake again, only this time not of her own doing. Harry was hovering over her, his mouth turned up into a radiant smile. "His eyes look so lovely and green when he smiles," was the first thought that came to her head, and she immediately blushed for it. "Good god Ginny, you have a boyfriend. Get over yourself."

"Ginny, Ginny, we're going to go to Muggle London to buy us some clothing!" Harry said, sounding like an excited five-year-old. Most boys would be in a state of utter and complete horror at being taken shopping, but not Harry. He was different from all the other boys Ginny had met, and that contributed a great deal to why she liked him.

"Calm down Harry, you sound like a five-year-old on sugar high," Ginny informed him as she _politely _shoved him away from her. The expression on his face was one of confusion, but it changed to one of mirth when he realized that he had been in Ginny's way. That certainly gave him a good laugh. And, once again, Ginny went red. She made him laugh.

"Well, hurry up and get ready. Breakfast's on the table, and you know how quickly Ron's going to gobble it up. I should probably get downstairs before both of us miss our breakfasts. I'll try to save some for you," he said, and with that he was gone. Ginny let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and got up.

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When Ginny bounced into the kitchen, she did it as though nothing had happened the night before. Well, what did he expect? She had treated him just the same. "Probably didn't want to tread on my delicate feelings," Harry thought morosely, continuing to eat his food.

"Morning Ginger," Bill said absentmindedly. Harry turned to look at Ginny and raised an eyebrow, but all she did was shrug and take the seat next to his at the table. A plate full of food was soon in front of her, and she too began to eat.

Breakfast went by rather quickly, especially since Harry was quite eager to go into Muggle London. He knew that he would be there for the next month-and-a-half, but he knew he would love the experience of shopping there. He had never really gone shopping before, except in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Even in those places, though, the experience hadn't been real.

_Because you didn't share it with Ginny perhaps? _Harry mentally slapped the traitorous voice inside his head. "You're going to have to stop that if I'm going to spend over a month with her," Harry informed the voice calmly, hoping the thing would listen to him.

_**Spend a month with her, hm? I wonder where they'll be. I can just see the possibilities. A Weasley and Potter all at the same time. How simply lovely.**_

"Oh god," Harry thought, shutting his eyes and settling his thoughts. Voldemort was there, and he had let too much slip. Ginny was in danger, and so was he. Ever so slowly, so as not to alert Voldemort of his presence, Harry closed off all the secret doors in his mind. Moments later, all was quiet. He waited until the presence of Voldemort was back to its normal level, and he opened his eyes.

What greeted him was a batch of Weasley brown eyes staring at him. "What did I do?" he asked, sending them all quizzical looks.

"You said 'Oh God,' Harry. Didn't you hear yourself?" Ron asked, sounding slightly shaken. Harry shook his head. He had spoken aloud? He had thought it was all in his head.

"Sorry, I just remembered something...unpleasant," Harry informed them, hoping the Weasleys would drop it. When he looked around the table, he saw that near everyone had bought it. They all looked at him with pity, obviously thinking that he had remembered that day in the Department of Mysteries.

But Ginny, no, Ginny was not fooled.

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She wasn't sure what had happened, but whatever it was, Ginny was going to find out. If she was going to spend a lot of time with him this summer he would have to get over this "I'm going to spare you the pain and troubles of my woeful existence" shit that he always pulled.

She honestly couldn't stand it.

Harry, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley gathered in front of the fireplace in the Burrow living room. They would be flooing to the Leaky Cauldron and walking into Muggle London from there. Ron, being a typical boy and hating shopping, had declined the invitation to go along. So, it was just these three.

"Ready dears?" Mrs. Weasley asked, grabbing a handful of floo powder from the open bag on the table. Ginny nodded, and she assumed Harry did too, since her mother quickly deposited a pinch of powder into her hand. "I'll go first, then Ginny, then Harry," Mrs. Weasley informed them, stepping up to the fire. "The Leaky Cauldron," Mrs. Weasley said, loudly and clearly, throwing her pinch of powder into the fire. Without a moment's hesitation, she stepped into the recently turned blue flames.

Ginny followed, and moments later she was in the Leaky Cauldron. She dusted off her old Muggle clothing absentmindedly, waiting for Harry to appear. It was only a few seconds before he did just that.

"Alright, let's get on with it then," Mrs. Weasley said, taking Ginny's hand in hers. When Mrs. Weasley didn't take Harry's, Ginny did, albeit nervously. She didn't feel like touching Harry right then, especially when she was quite angry with him.

He too seemed uncomfortable with this small physical contact. As they exited the Leaky Cauldron, Harry's hand kept slipping, of its own accord, from hers. Both of their palms were entirely too sweaty, and neither of them could get a good, solid hold.

It wasn't too long of a walk before they found a Muggle clothing store. It didn't seem like much, but looking in through the window gave Ginny a view of quite a variety of items.

Muggle clothing had always been interesting to her. She loved the styles of the day: the tight pants, the shirts with funny sayings on them, the cozy hooded sweatshirts, the trainers, and all the accessories that went along with them. She didn't think clothes in the wizarding world were even close to being as interesting.

Being in the store was like being in heaven. It was basically the same feeling her dad would have gotten if he had walked into a Muggle electronics store. She was surrounded by things she had always taken an interest in, and she could choose any that she wanted to buy.

Rifling even this small store's collection was like trying to look at every piece of straw in a haystack. It simply could not be done. But, Ginny was willing to try.

Within one hour of their arrival, Ginny was so laden with clothes that she could barely walk. She would have asked Mrs. Weasley to help, but she was too busy watching both of the children under her care. And Ginny did not want to talk to Harry.

She approached her mother when everything she could possibly have wanted was in her hands. "I'm ready to go try these on Mum. I'll be in the changing rooms, okay?" she asked, talking to her mother through the large pile of clothes. There was a moment of silence, but since Ginny couldn't really see her mother's face she couldn't get any idea of what was going through the woman's head.

"Okay, off you go. But do hurry please," Mrs. Weasley finally responded, and Ginny raced away from her with a smile.

Half an hour later, Ginny was done. Half of the clothes she had picked out had fit her _and _looked nice on her, which was not something she thought was out-of-the-ordinary. She was not at all surprised that, by the time she got out, Harry was finished.

"Find anything good in there Ginny?" Harry asked, sending her a small, friendly smile. Ginny resisted the urge to grin; she was still mad at him.

"Obviously Mr. Potter," she replied quickly, turning on her heel and walking over to the register. She wasn't quite sure that she knew how to do this whole buying clothing thing, but she had a good idea of how it was done. She quickly placed the pile of her neatly folded things on the counter. The woman behind it gave her a soft smile; Ginny wasn't sure why.

After a good five minutes of ringing up all of Ginny's purchases, the final total was announced. Ginny's mouth dropped open in horror. She didn't have nearly enough money to pay for these clothes; she would have to put some back. How would she be able to choose?

"Here, and add this stuff in too" a voice said, slapping a huge wad of money and clothes onto the table. The woman behind the counter rolled her eyes and began ringing up Harry's purchases.

"Harry!" Ginny hissed in outrage, turning on him quickly. She didn't want charity, especially from him. Harry may have been a very rich young boy, but who knew if he would ever be in a pinch?

"Look Gin, I know what you're going to say, so don't waste your breath. I brought enough, knowing this would happen, and I have more money back in that Gringotts vault than I will ever need in my life. Don't argue with me, it's too late," Harry spat out, just quickly enough to keep Ginny from getting a word in before the woman behind the counter handed him his change.

So Ginny didn't say a word, but she would. Oh yes, she would be descending upon Harry that night with such anger that he would wish he was never born.

"He already does," was the first thought that came to Ginny's mind, and she knew instantly that it was true.

It took her a full five minutes, until they were outside the store and on their way back to the Leaky Cauldron, before she realized that he had called her Gin. He had called her Gin, not Ginny. Only her close family and friends called her Gin. She was Harry's friend.

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The rest of the day passed loudly and with much entertainment. Ginny, Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Bill played a few games of Quidditch. They were quite fun, and Ginny discovered that she had quite a knack for being Chaser. "I think I'll go out for the team once we're back at Hogwarts," Ginny mused over dinner.

Dinner was much more subdued than the rest of the day had been. Ginny was still mad at Harry, Harry was being deadly silent, the twins had finished quickly and returned to Diagon Alley and their shop, and Arthur Weasley was working late. That left only Ginny, Ron, Bill, and Mrs. Weasley to talk, and they had a lot harder time of it than would be expected.

Finally, dinner was over, and Ginny got a chance to talk to Harry privately. So, immediately after her plate was cleared, she walked up the stairs and knocked on Harry and Ron's door. "Come in!" Ron's voice called from the other side of the door. Ginny rolled her eyes and shook her head. How was she going to get Ron to leave them alone?

Disregarding that for a moment, Ginny opened the door. Ron obviously hadn't been expecting her, since he looked quite shocked when she arrived. "Gin, what're you doing here?" he asked her.

"I need to talk to Harry," was all the information she supplied. No point not getting right to it, was there? Ron was even more shocked by this pronouncement; his mouth hung wide open.

"Harry?" he croaked, his voice barely raised above a whisper. Obviously, Ron wasn't accustomed to Ginny talking to Harry.

"Well, he better get used to it," Ginny thought sourly, her mouth moving, of its own accord, into a frown. Ron had obviously been trying hard not to think about his precious little sister living in a house _alone _with Harry for any amount of time. She was sure that it would be hard for him. He still thought she was 10.

"Yeah, me. Let's go Gin," Harry said, standing up from his bed. In her haste to get Ron to leave, Ginny hadn't even noticed Harry. But there he was, lying on (well now standing next to) his bed. He shot her a quick smile, one that she did not return.

She and Harry promptly walked out, leaving Ron to stare at them both in great wonder.

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She was mad at him, Harry knew, and he also knew why. The third thing he knew was that Ginny had only gotten angrier with him when he had paid for her clothes. He had a feeling that he was in for it tonight.

Resigning himself to a bout of female Weasley temper, Harry walked through the door of Ginny's room. He was ready (as ready as he'd ever be) to face the fire.

"So Ginny, what did you want to talk about?" Harry asked, beginning the conversation as soon as he and Ginny were seated on her bed. Ginny raised an eyebrow and gave him a reproachful look.

"You know exactly what I want to talk about Mr. Harry Potter," Ginny said sternly, the look not disappearing. Harry felt like running from the room; he should have addressed her anger earlier, instead of letting it fester and boil throughout the day.

He was in a bloody lot of trouble, and he wasn't sure that he knew how to get out of it.

"I really don't know of what it is you speak. Perhaps you could tell me?" Harry asked, trying to sound as not guilty as possible. Ginny rolled her eyes, muttered something about him being "too much," and began her diatribe.

"Honestly Harry, I don't know what anyone is going to do with you. First you nearly starve yourself, then you have an "episode" during breakfast, then you withdraw from everyone for the rest of the day, and then you insist upon paying for my clothes? What is it with you Harry?"

"Well, that pretty much says it all," Harry remarked, trying once again to coax a smile from the enraged Weasley. It didn't work.

"Let's address that second issue, shall we? What was that episode during breakfast?" Harry wasn't feeling particularly like saying anything about it, but he knew that Ginny was too angry with him for it to be let go. So, he would have to tell her about it.

"Voldemort was listening to our conversation through my head, and now he knows that I'll be spending the next few weeks alone with you. That's why I said 'Oh God,'" Harry informed her, his voice not wavering in the slightest. He knew that Ginny would have hundreds of questions on this particular subject, especially since she knew what he was going through; she too had been possessed by the Dark Lord.

"What do you mean he was listening?" Ginny asked, her voice full of worry and, underneath that but hidden well, fear.

And so, Harry explained to Ginny rather quickly about his Occlumency lessons with Snape, how Voldemort was in his mind, and about the prophecy.

"So let me get this straight. You've been taking Occlumency but you're still not so great at it, so He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can come into your head any time. You can go into his head too. And, you are the only one who can kill him?" Harry nodded. She had pretty much summed it up.

"So Harry, before we continue this little discussion, I have a question for you. Is the world really as heavy as it sounds?" Harry laughed at that. Ginny was the first person who had heard about the prophecy and hadn't immediately taken pity on him. Ginny knew what he was feeling; she could relate, and she did not feel pity for him. She knew that it was the last thing he needed.

"Oh, much heavier. Now, we're going to continue this, are we?" Harry asked, his face covered in a brilliant white smile. He had a feeling that this next month-and-a-half was going to be one of the most fun he had ever had.


	5. The First Day

Chapter 5: The First Day

The rest of the conversation was short, to the point, and very easy to manage. Harry was obviously not remorseful about paying for her clothes but Ginny thought that wouldn't have been much like Harry anyway.

The next day dawned bright and early (cliché but true), too early for one Miss Ginny Weasley. She felt as though she had barely gone to sleep before she was woken by a bouncing on her bed. "Ginny, Ginny, it's time to get up Ginny!" an excited voice squealed. Ginny could have sworn that the voice belonged to Harry, but...

It did. "Harry?" she asked in shock, squinting her eyes a little. Maybe it wasn't Harry after all, although who in this house but Harry could have green eyes and black hair she didn't know.

"You're up Gin? Good, because we need to leave soon," Harry said softly, pressing a hand to her side and pushing her back and forth a few times. There was a sharp intake of breath from Ginny when his hand connected with her side, but other than that she stayed silent.

She was warm, she soon realized, and it wasn't from the covers draped over her half-asleep form. No, it was from the pressure on her side, and the person it was coming from. Harry Potter. There was also a tingling sensation there, but she recognized that. It was the same sensation that she got whenever she looked at Harry, only worse.

"Ginny?"

"Ger'off me Harry," Ginny said, her words muffled from the action of turning her head into the pillow. Suddenly, there were two arms firmly around her waist, and she was being picked up. "Harry!" she shrieked, laughing and squealing as Harry lifted her off the bed and plopped her on the ground.

"Yes?" he asked with a mischievous grin, his arms no longer wrapped around her waist. She studied his face for a moment, taking in the slightly reddened cheeks, the gorgeous emerald eyes (_green as a fresh pickled toad_), the charcoal-black hair that always looked messy but gorgeous, and the lightning shaped scar that graced his forehead.

"Ginny, you're staring at me." Ginny's face colored slightly, and she stood up, face turned to the ground.

"Out you go then Harry. Ginny needs to get ready," a voice said, a chuckle hiding underneath the speaker's voice. Standing in the doorway was none other than Hermione Granger.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, whirling around to face the door. The bushy-haired Muggle-born witch nodded with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, that's me. Now get out Harry, before I have to clobber you with my wand." And with that, Harry was gone. As soon as he left, Hermione closed the door softly behind her and, still smiling, went to sit on the chair in a corner of the room.

"Hermione, I thought you were going to be in Bulgaria," Ginny said, her voice soft. She had a feeling that she knew _exactly _what Miss Hermione Granger had done, and somehow she was pleased.

"Harry needed to get away from the Dursleys and have some fun. He also needs to get to know you, be your friend, and stop thinking of you in terms of Ron's little sister. Then, he'll be able to notice you as something more," Hermione stated matter-of-factly, knowing that Ginny was aware of what the brilliant witch had done.

"Does Ron know you're here?" Ginny asked. She knew that she should say thank you, but the words wouldn't come.

"Yeah, I went up to his room to say hi and sent Harry in here to wake you up," Hermione replied. Ginny waggled her eyebrows at the girl, and Hermione responded in character; she blushed profusely.

"Now, you need to get out too. I have to get ready to go, m'kay?"

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Harry was so stunned by Hermione's arrival that he barely made it back up to his room without crashing into the walls. He opened the door and saw Ron sitting on the bed, a goofy grin plastered all over his face and a hand to his mouth. Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. He knew exactly what Ron and Hermione had been doing while he was waking up Ginny.

"So, what's Hermione doing here?" Harry asked nonchalantly, sitting down on his bed. "Or were you too _busy_ to ask?" At those words, Ron's head whipped around and his eyes grew wide. He immediately ripped his hand away from his mouth and stood up.

"She was never going to Krum's in the first place. Ginny must have misunderstood her letter," Ron replied quickly as he left the room.

"Must be going to go take a cold shower," Harry thought, bringing a laugh to his lips. "Exactly what I need to be doing." The laughter was gone.

The feeling of Ginny's soft stomach under his hands had been quite the sensation, one that Harry would not soon forget. He had never felt it before, having never touched a girl in that area other than Hermione. With Hermione though, it was different. She was his friend, a sister-by-default, and he would never, _could_ never, have any kind of feelings for her.

Ginny, however, was a different story.

"Ron's little sister, Ron's little sister..." he repeated inside his head as he gathered up his clothes and made his way down to the main Weasley bathroom. Soon, Ron's shower was finished, and Harry stepped inside the bathroom, ready for a nice, cold shower.

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Harry made his way slowly into the kitchen, letting all of his thoughts roll through his mind. Once he finally did reach the kitchen, everyone but him had started eating. Bill, Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and even Ginny were all munching away at some food or another (Harry wasn't being observant enough that morning to catch which food it was).

"G'morning Harry," Bill called out through a mouthful of food. Harry nodded and sat down in the only free chair at the table.

"Harry, it's July 4th; today's you and Ginny's first day in Muggle London," Hermione informed him briskly, sending him a small "I know what's going on with you" smile over her plate. Harry raised an eyebrow at her and began eating; if she knew "what was going on" she was the only one, because he sure didn't.

"Why Harry dear, I do believe I completely forgot!" Mrs. Weasley said pleasantly, getting up from the table and whisking her plate from the room. When she came back in, she continued with the discussion. "You and Ginny need to be packed and ready in about an hour. Then you'll floo into the Leaky Cauldron, where you'll meet Professor Dent and he'll give you the instructions for the day. Now, hurry up and finish eating so you can go pack."

Harry took it all in without a word, waiting until Mrs. Weasley was finished before beginning to eat once again. As he spooned the food into his mouth, not caring what it was he was eating, he felt a warm hand on his arm.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ginny whispered in his ear, her breath sending shivers down his spine. He nodded and removed Ginny's hand from his arm.

"Don't touch me please Ginny," Harry whispered, and ate.

------------------------------

_Don't touch me please Ginny_. Her head was spinning. Why not? They were friends, weren't they? Why couldn't she put a hand on his arm? Hermione gave him comforting back rubs and playful slaps all the time; what was wrong with a little bit of that between her and Harry?

_Maybe he feels the same way about you as you do for him_, that mutinous voice in her head ventured.

"Maybe he's repulsed by me," she answered back, not wanting to even explore the thought that Harry might feel something for her. It would just be too much to handle at that point in time, especially since they were about to begin living together for a whole month. Having any, well, _feelings_ would make the whole thing way too complicated.

So, Ginny returned to eating, trying to forget for a minute about all of her conflicting emotions. "I'm going to have fun with Harry on this damned trip, and if something else comes of it then so be it." And that was the attitude she vowed to take for the next month-and-a-half.

"Ginny dear, you need to start packing," her mother said. Ginny's head snapped up and she looked around the room. Everyone else seemed immersed in his or her food, not even noticing that something was going on. Ginny then looked down at her plate, saw there was nothing there, and realized that she had been staring at her plate for quite a while.

"Going up mum," she replied, getting up from her chair and making her way up the steps. She was in her room in a moment and began packing.

During the packing ritual she went through at the Burrow at least once a year, Ginny always found herself cursing the Ministry of Magic. She found it quite absurd that they couldn't even use packing charms to do this work.

"I guess this is what the next few weeks is going to be like for me," Ginny thought about an hour later, once all of her packing was finished. The minute she had crammed the last of her clothes into her suitcase and zipped it shut, her mother called to her from downstairs.

"Ginny, it's time to leave!" she yelled up the stairs.

"Coming mum!" Ginny called back, picking up her trunk and leaving her room. At the door, she turned to look back at it and waved with her free hand. She always did that, whenever she was leaving her room for a long period of time. Then, she turned around again and rushed down the stairs.

They were all gathered in front of the fireplace: Mum, Hermione, Ron, Bill, Fred, George, her dad, and (of course) Harry. They were all (except Harry) looking at her with warm, farewell smiles.

"Au revoir ma cherie!" Bill whispered in her ear as he gave her a lingering hug. Ginny smiled and couldn't resist a Fred & George like comment.

"Brushing up on your French, are you Bill?" she asked, a gleam in her eye. "Is it for anyone in particular, perhaps a certain half-Veela who name begins with an F and ends in and R?"

Bill returned her smile and rolled his eyes. "Ginger..." he murmured in mock anger, balling up his fists and shaking them in her face. She gave him another quick, tight hug and moved on to the next person in line.

"Au revoir Ginny. We'll see you when you get back. By that time, we may have a wedding to tell you about," George whispered in her ear, just loud enough for Bill to hear. The older boy smacked George across the shoulder, and George skittered away in mock fear and hurt.

"Why Mum, I do believe Bill just attacked me with malicious intent," George said, grinning the whole time. Molly Weasley just rolled her eyes and gave Bill a stern look.

"Whose wedding George, yours and Fred's?" Bill asked in retaliation, a smile breaking out over his features when he saw the identical looks of horror on the twins' faces. Fred recovered much more quickly then George did, and shot back a remark of his own.

"No, Harry and Ginny's." Ginny spun on her older brother, her eyes stormy. This time, mock anger was replaced with real anger, and Fred could see it in his sister's eyes. "Oh, I meant nothing by it Gin. See you when you get home." And with that, Fred gave her a quick hug and pushed her over to the next brother in line, Ron.

"Play nice with Harry, okay?" Ron whispered in her ear as he gave her a quick hug. When she pulled away, Ginny slapped him on the side of the face and grinned.

"You bet."

Hermione was next, and a tight hug was bestowed upon this non-Weasley. Hermione was like a sister to her, and she had set this whole thing up in the first place. Hermione didn't say a word as Ginny went on to say goodbye to her parents.

Mrs. Weasley began giving Ginny stern instructions about making sure to eat, cleaning up after herself, being careful, watching after Harry, remembering to brush her teeth, and everything else a mother finds necessary whenever her baby goes away. Mr. Weasley just stood on the sidelines in silence, preferring to give Ginny a quick hug and whispered words of encouragement.

"Honestly mum, stop worrying. You can always owl me while I'm away; Harry's bringing Hedwig I see," Ginny remarked when her mother's tirade was finally finished. She turned to Harry, and saw that he was nodding to Mrs. Weasley and gesturing towards his snowy owl.

"Okay dear, off you two go," Mrs. Weasley said, handing some floo powder to both of the teenagers. With a quick wave, Ginny threw the powder into the fire and stepped inside. Harry followed shortly after.

------------------------------

"Ah, the Miss Weasley has finally arrived. I assume that you are her partner Mr. Potter?" Professor Dent asked him as soon as they popped out of the fire. Ginny looked up at her professor and shook her head. He really was a nice man; he just took some getting used to.

"Uh, yes sir," Harry mumbled, looking at the professor with a bit of confusion. Suddenly something dawned on Ginny. Harry had never taken Muggle Studies, so he didn't know who Professor Dent was! Ginny was about to lean over and tell him, but the professor beat her too it.

Holding out his hand to shake Harry's, the professor explained. "Nice to meet you Mr. Potter; I'm Professor Dent, Miss Weasley's Muggle Studies professor." Harry nodded in comprehension, the confused look gone from his face. He must have thought the professor was some kind of weird stranger or something.

The professor walked away, and moments later he was standing in front of a large group of students in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry and Ginny hurried to stand at the back of the group and listen to his "lecture," which he happened to be giving from on top of a table.

"I'm sure you all know why you're here, so there's no need to take up time with frivolous explanations. I'm just going to go over a few rules and let you students ask questions about any of the tasks on your sheets. If you didn't bring your sheets, I have to say that you are one of the dimmest of the lot. But, I do have extras for you."

Harry leaned over to Ginny's side, his shoulder lightly touching hers, and whispered in her ear. "Do you have your sheets?"

"I'm not dim Harry, if that answers your question. Now shush up," she whispered back. At that moment, the Professor began speaking again.

"Now, let's get down to business. There aren't too many rules for this project, but if you break even one than you could get in _a lot_ of trouble. First of all, there will be no magic whatsoever. This should be something you are fairly used to, with the ban on underage magic they have these days. You are allowed to receive owls, send owls, and use some floo powder that I will be giving each of you. This floo powder can _only_ be used to contact people via fireplace. There will be no flooing around. Also, your wands will be left here, or at home if you didn't bring them." The professor paused for a moment, taking in the expressions of his students and their partners, and continued.

"For the tasks, a complex timing schedule has been drawn up for each of you. If you took the time to look, on the sheets that you received there is a list of each of the tasks, the particulars of each task, and how to do them. Each day, a new task will appear on your paper, along with all the details necessary to complete the task. You have a certain time frame to complete the task in; if you cannot complete it within that time frame you do not get any credit. Now, before you begin a month-and-a-half with no magic but the paper with your assignments, are there any questions?"

No one said a word. With a satisfied smile, Professor Dent _finally_ finished his speech. "I will come up to each of you and give you the keys to your flat, and the location. You do, of course, have to find it yourself, but that shouldn't be too hard. I'll point you in the right direction." And with that, the professor jumped off the table and began walking around, handing keys to the groups.

"That was boring." Ginny nodded in response, not really feeling like saying anything. This whole project was beginning to sound a bit too hard for her. How would she survive without magic for so long? Even if she couldn't do magic at home, she had always been around other people who could. Now she would have to live without magic for a month-and-a-half.

"It's not so hard Gin," Harry whispered in her ear, reading her mind. Ginny turned her head and smiled at him.

"I hope not." Moments later, Professor Dent was standing in front of them and holding out a key to Harry.

"Well, I trust that you two will take good care of each other. This flat is over in Kensington. I suggest that you take the tube, but if you'd rather walk..."

"We'll take the tube. Do we need our own money, or do you have some for us?" Harry asked, grabbing the keys from the professor. Arthur Dent smiled up at the boy (this Professor was a particularly short man) and shook his head.

"Nope, have this. It's a bag full of Muggle money; it's all you'll need for now." The professor dropped a heavy bag into Harry's hand and walked off, going on to the next group. Harry tested the weight of the bag for a moment and then peered inside.

"Wow, there's got to be at least 1000 pounds in there!" Harry exclaimed, sticking his head even farther into the bag. Something about this image made Ginny giggle, and she quickly grabbed the back of Harry's head (his hair) and pulled his face from the bag.

"Don't be getting greedy now Harry. That'll have to last us for a month-and-a-half," she scolded, taking the bag from him. He growled in mock anger and grabbed the bag back.

"Ginny, we can't just carry this thing around, and there's certainly no room in your suitcase. I'll stick it in mine," Harry said as an explanation for why he took the money. Ginny nodded in comprehension; her mother always gave her a warning speech about Muggle pickpockets whenever she went into Muggle London.

So, once Harry had the bag stuffed into his trunk, the both of them walked outside the Leaky Cauldron. "Let's see," Harry mumbled as soon as they were outside of the building. "Where's the nearest tube station?"

"Even I know that you dolt," Ginny remarked, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him in the direction she _thought_ the tube station was in. She wasn't sure (it had been a long time since she had gone on the tube), but she didn't want to tell Harry that.

They kept walking in that direction for a few minutes, no words passing between them. Finally Harry opened his mouth to speak, probably to ask if she really knew where she was going, but at that moment she spotted the station. "Look there Harry, it's the tube station," Ginny said in a slightly excited voice, pointing out the station up ahead.

"Yeah, I see it," Harry mumbled. Suddenly, Ginny realized that her hand was still grasping his, and she snapped it away, a blush growing on her face. It had just felt so natural that she hadn't even noticed it.

They reached the station a scant minute later, and they went through all the motions of buying a ticket, choosing the right line to take, and getting on the tube. The actual ride was uneventful at best, unbearably boring at the worst. Finally they reached their destination and hopped off the tube as quickly as possible.

"So, now where do we go?" Ginny asked once they had exited the station. Harry stuck a hand in his pocket, extracted the key, held it up to his face, and squinted. After a few moments of examination, Harry took the key away from his face and put it in his pocket once again.

"It says **15** on it, so I'm going to assume that's the number of the flat. Let's just wander around and try to find it."

------------------------------

Now _that_ was easier said than done. After nearly an hour of wandering, however, they did find the flat that they were looking for. Harry extracted the key from his pocket and stuck it into the door. With a quick turn of his wrist, the door was unlocked and he pushed it open.

After perusing the flat for a few minutes, Harry soon realized that he and Ginny would be having some trouble with sleeping arrangements. From what he had seen, there were four rooms to this small flat: one bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a main living space. There was only one bed in the bedroom.

"You can have it," Ginny supplied, picking her bag up off the ground and making her way towards the room she was just talking about. Harry quickly picked up his own bag and followed her into the room.

"I can have what?" he asked.

"The bed."

"Couldn't we just share it?" Harry volunteered, hoping that she would say yes. He had no intention of sleeping on the couch, but he knew that if she said no he would have to. Sleeping on the couch was the noble, _manly_ thing to do, so of course he would have to do it.

"Could you resist the temptation Potter?" Ginny asked, a slow smile spreading across her features. Harry was so shaken by the, well, _something_ hidden in her voice that it took him a moment to form a reply.

"It's not you who should be worried, it's me. I'm not the one who has harbored a not-so-secret crush on you since before my first year, am I?" Harry asked. He immediately wished he could take back the words when he saw the look of annoyance come over Ginny's features.

"Uh, sorry Gin, didn't mean it that way," he mumbled, setting his trunk down in front of the dresser and opening it. "I'll take the first two drawers and you can take the second, okay?" he asked, trying to dismiss his earlier comment.

"No, you can have the drawers. I brought hangers for all of my clothes, so I'll hang them up," Ginny replied, taking her trunk and setting it down in front of the closet.

"Hangers? I didn't think Wizarding families used hangers," Harry said.

"Yeah well, you know about my dad's obsession with all things Muggle. Plus, they're convenient, and I knew that I would need them. You have no _idea_ how many clothes I brought," Ginny supplied, opening the closet and beginning to unpack her clothes.

"My bank account does though," Harry mumbled jokingly, hoping that Ginny hadn't heard it. She had however, and shot him and scathing look. "Again Gin, I didn't mean it that way," Harry explained, using that as an excuse.

About half and hour later, Ginny and Harry had unpacked all of their things and were sitting at the kitchen table with the sheet from Professor Dent in front of them. Words had appeared on it, and they were both reading them.

_Dear Students:_

_This is your first day, so I've decided to simply let you rest. Of course, you'll have to cook yourself dinner, but that won't be too hard for any of you. Cooking your own meals, and washing the dishes, is something that you will have to do most every day that you are staying here. I hope you enjoy it; you'll get the hang of it... eventually._

_Oh yes, and food has already been provided. You will never have to go shopping for food (well, maybe for one of the tasks... you shall have to wait and find out)._

_Sincerely, Professor Dent_

"Wash the dishes? Make dinner? I don't believe that I shall survive," Ginny quipped sarcastically, rolling up the parchment and leaving it on the table. Harry rolled his eyes, got up, and made his way to the kitchen. He knew that he could cook without magic (he had done it for the Dursleys many times). However, he wasn't sure whether Ginny could cook at all, let alone without magic.

"I can cook Harry," Ginny informed him haughtily once they reached the kitchen. "And I can do it without magic too." Harry nodded in agreement, hiding his surprise. He had not ever thought of Ginny as one the cooking type; he had obviously been wrong. Not that he minded; having help would be quite nice.

After rummaging around in the kitchen for about five minutes, Harry had everything he needed to make a nice pasta dish. Soon he was bustling around the kitchen, he and Ginny both, preparing the food.

About an hour after that, dinner was served. Ginny had actually been helpful, and all of Harry's doubts were gone. They had quite a nice conversation over dinner; Harry was not as quiet as he had wanted to be. Somehow, Ginny Weasley brought out the best (most talkative) in him.

Washing the dishes was fairly easy as well. Harry knew how to do it, and Ginny did too, so they had no trouble. The real trouble started when they got into bed.

Harry had seen Ginny in pajamas before. He'd even seen her in these pajamas before. However, Harry did have a justifiable reason why he was feeling particularly uncomfortable with a certain female Weasley that night. He may have seen her in these pajamas before, but that was two year ago.

Ginny was decked out in an old Chudley Cannons t-shirt of Ron's. When she was 12 it had gone down well past her knees. Now the shirt barely reached her knees, and was particularly tight in an area Harry **did not **want to be looking at.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ginny asked. A blush crept onto his face; he had been caught staring at her.

"Yeah Gin, I'm fine. Let's go to bed." Harry then slipped under the covers of the fairly large bed, thankful for its size. He praised all the gods he could think of for giving them a king size bed in their flat. He turned on his side, away from the side of the bed Ginny was standing on.

Reluctantly, Harry closed his eyes. He had a feeling that he would be dreaming tonight; dreaming about something he really shouldn't be dreaming about. Moments after this thought, Harry felt the bed shift a little as Ginny sat down on it. With a sigh, she slipped under the covers and moved around a little.

"G'night Harry," she mumbled.

"G'night Gin."


End file.
